


love is a lot of things

by lazy_kitkat



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Minecraft Youtubers (Video Blogging RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, Flower Crowns, Flowers, Fluff, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_kitkat/pseuds/lazy_kitkat
Summary: In which the boys find new ways to fall in love with each other, again and again.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 977
Collections: MCYT





	love is a lot of things

**Author's Note:**

> Quick reminder, if Dream Team or anyone in my fics express that fanfiction makes them uncomfortable and they’d rather it not be published, I will take this down.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy~

_ Love is a bit like a flower. _

_ You find it, one bloom that stands out from the rest for a reason that you do not understand, for a reason no one understands. In a field of millions of wildflowers, they seem to call out for you and you sink to grass to have a closer look. They’re lovely and maybe you should just keep looking from afar. _

_ You’re scared to pick it. You don’t want to watch the gorgeous petals wither away as time passes, you don’t want such beauty to come to an end, especially in your hands. You know that no amount of wishing will bring colour back to the dead so why should you risk it. _

_ But if you’re careful, if you’re meticulous, and you pull it out at the right time with the roots- maybe, just maybe the flower can last a little longer. _

~

Loving George isn’t hard.

Sapnap thought it would be. People aren’t wrong when they say the other man is careful with his words, hesitant with his smile. His hands awkwardly flail around Sapnap’s back when the Texan hugs him, his palms sweating when Dream laces his fingers with him and he can never seem to look either of them in the eye when they lean closer for something more. George seems to forget how to speak when they call his laugh pretty, his heart stuttering when they tell him to smile more, cheeks red when they tell him how much he means to them. He doesn’t like going out to the movies and he hates fancy restaurants. Carnivals are too crowded for him and when they do go out, he’s worried about their cats. If the other man is ever stuck in a cheesy rom-com, Sapnap isn’t sure if he’d make it out alive.

But that’s fine- no really it is. Because somehow, loving George became easier than breathing air.

Dream helps, holding onto him as they both fall for the same man, both fall for each other. All three of them, making mistakes and learning from them, tripping over a stone and then getting back up because, in the end, they are together. They learn George doesn’t hate affection- he just doesn’t know what to do with it, how to give it back. They tell him he doesn’t need to, showering him with quiet kisses and words sweeter than honey. He tries though, curling against Dream when the taller man is in one of his bad moods and fretting over Sapnap when his temperature runs high.

He also learns that George has a special smile where his eyes crinkle fondly and cheeks are dusted pink, one he tries to hide but soon realises that around them, he doesn’t have to. Sapnap loves that smile, maybe more than Dream though the other would disagree. They make a game out of it, who can make George smile the most, who can make a red mess of pale skin and who can send him laughing the longest. 

George calls them idiots when they kiss him, scoffs when Sapnap refuses to let him go and curses when Dream tries to pick him up. 

But he thinks, no he knows, it’s worth it if it’s for George.

~

It starts with a bouquet.

He doesn’t remember why he walked into the flower shop. It wasn’t an anniversary, it wasn’t a holiday but he wasn’t thinking about those things when he hands over a note and leaves with a bundle of various blooms, painted pale pinks and yellows. He hasn’t bought flowers before but he thinks it’ll put a smile on Dream’s face at least and couldn’t hurt anyone to try. 

Sapnap hovers in front of their apartment, fumbling with his keys as he hears George shout at what he thinks is Mario Kart and Dream’s contagious laughter from the other side of the door. The lock clicks and he pushes it open with his shoulder since his hands were occupied with the groceries and bouquet. He dumps the bags on the kitchen counter, carefully tries not to bruise soft petals as he sets them down and grabs himself a glass of water.

“Did you get everything?” He feels long arms wrapped around his waist, tanned fingers locking him against the other, and blond hair tickles his neck.

“Good morning,” He hums as he turns around to meet Dream’s face, “Jesus, your breath stinks. Did you guys just get out of bed.”

“Kiss me,” The other whines, sleepily leaning onto the shorter man and sending him a lazy smile.

“No, you’re stanky.” Sapnap wrinkles his nose, laughing when the blond pouts and pulls at his cheeks, “Such a baby too.”

“What are those?” Dream’s looking past his shoulder, eyes catching sight of the bouquet.

“Dog radishes and elbow grease,” He deadpanned, “What else would they be, you idiot?”

“I know what they are- I’m just surprised,” Dream walks over and picks them up cautiously, a soft smile on his face, “They’re nice.”

Sapnap is reminded how unfairly handsome the other is for someone who spends most of their day in a chair. Dark freckles on lightly tanned skin, dirty curls that are as untamed as his smile. His heart stutters as he looks away to finish packing away the groceries, leaving Dream to admire pretty blooms. 

“I don’t know if we have-” He hears the other mumble before calling out to their third partner, “George, do we still have that vase that mum gave us for thanksgiving.”

He heard an exhausted groan from the living room, the rustle of blankets that he thinks are from last night’s movie marathon and the heavy steps of the British man. He comes around the corner, mumbling a good morning as he falls into Sapnap’s arms and refuses to move.

“Why do we need it?” George says as Sapnap presses a kiss on his cheek, “I think it’s still in the box, behind the cabinet.”

“Sap bought us flowers,” Dream flashes the other a grin, “Like the simp he is.”

“Flowers?” He repeats slowly, focusing on the petals, “What colour are they?”

“You wanna get your glasses?” Sapnap suggests as the blond man hands over the bouquet, “I don’t know how much help they’ll be.”

George hums, gingerly playing with the petals with his total concentration. It’s adorable, the way he squints his eyes and brings the flowers near the window sill to try to differentiate the colours. His brows are furrowed and he seems to have forgotten that the other two were still standing next to him. Dream leaves and comes back with a small case, passing it to Sapnap to pass to George. They watch him take the Enchroma glasses out of the black case, brown eyes now covered by tinted lenses. He blinks, taking them off and then putting them on again as a delighted laugh escapes his lips.

“I forgot how colourful flowers are,” George mumbled, exhaustion replaced by a bumbling excitement, “Yellow and blue? No- not blue, pink?”

He looks at them with uncertainty and Sapnap nods encouragingly. He watches the other’s face light up and it- it makes him feel a way he doesn’t have a name for. It’s the same feeling he has when he falls asleep next to him, the same feeling that makes all the butterflies in his stomach flutter happily. He wants to feel it again, he realises, he wants to see George smile at colour in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“George?” Dream’s voice is dazed and Sapnap wonders if the taller man finds it as hard to breathe. Their partner seems to snap out of his memorisation with the blooms, cheeks flushing when he realises they were staring at him, and he looks away embarrassed. 

“I’ll go find a place to put them,” He explains quickly, rushing past them.

~

Being with Dream is a bit like dancing with a tornado.

He should run, that’s what a sensible person would do. That’s what most people would do. But past the howling winds and devastated skies, there’s something mesmerising about the raw power of a storm. Bulldozing everything in its path for something and everything, an unbridled passion that could just destroy the world and Sapnap is just so in love, he can’t stop and think. 

Just like a storm, Dream lashes out. George and Sapnap have seen their partner breakdown in the open, hearts breaking with every tear that falls from the other’s face. That’s another thing Sapnap loves about Dream, how he isn’t ashamed to cry in front of them. He feels differently to George, he feels till his emotions consume him and he rages with thunder and rain, pouring down the earth till the hurricanes run dry. He doesn’t use his words but he doesn’t try to hide his heart from them, wearing it on his sleeve almost all the time. It takes a bit but they learn: how to tell the differences in the blond’s moods with the slightest tremor of his voice. They learn when he needs them to be their, kissing away the problems for another day. They learn when he needs to be alone and on those days, they wait patiently outside with his favourite food and talk about all the little things when he finally comes out.

Out of the three of them, Dream loves the easiest. He isn’t shy, not like George is. Dream isn’t scared to sing his heart out for them when they go out, he doesn’t think twice when he tells them that they’re everything he could possibly wish for and more and he’s smiles brighter than the sun when they catch his eyes lingering on them for too long. He likes touching them, from lacing their fingers in an unbreakable knot anytime they’re stuck amidst a crowd, refusing to let them leave his arms in the early hours of a Sunday to pressing his lips against their knuckles like some Victorian gentleman when they’re shopping for Fruit Loops. He lets Sapnap hold him when they watch horror movies for Halloween and he lets George play with his hair when he’s editing a video. Dream tells them they’re beautiful and when George tells him to look in the mirror instead, he can’t help but agree especially when the taller man’s cheeks go pink. He loves them and he never lets them forget that.

He’s so unabashedly proud to be theirs and for them to be his, Sapnap can’t help but fall a little deeper.

~

“Dream, what the fuck?” George’s voice comes from the bathroom, disbelief apparent, and Sapnap has to send the blond curled beside him a questioning look. He receives a smug smirk and he rolls his eyes, turning off his phone to pay his attention to the British man who entered the room, holding a ring of orange flowers.

“This is the fifth one this week,” He says, “Do I need to call an intervention?” 

It’s a flower crown, this time of primroses and marigolds. On the vanity, laid four other crowns- each a different collage of colours and petals. The red and blue ones, roses and forget-me-nots, were found by Sapnap who had only taken them off when the day started to die. Orange isn’t a colour he’d imagine on the other and his mind wonders to daydreams unwelcomed by the night.

“What does this one say?” On each flower crown, Dream had tied a little note with his own messy handwriting. They were stupidly cheesy and he thinks it’s worrying how he could hear the other’s voice whenever he read them. George grumbles, carefully flipping the decorated stationery and the Texan watches how his face grows pinks as he rips the note off the crown, handing it over to Sapnap while muttering a quiet “idiot”. 

_ If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I’d be lost in a world of flowers that could never be more beautiful than you. _

“You sap,” He laughs, returning the card to George and notes how the other doesn’t throw it away and instead slips it in his pocket. Dream grins beside him and hides his face in the curve of Sapnap's neck. He gets clingy when they get ready for bed, waiting impatiently to be wrapped in their arms. He had once told them that it makes him feel safe and they really don’t need any other reason to bury him with a gentle warmth and wish him the sweetest goodnights.

“No, you’re Sap.”

George giggles, flower crown still in his hands when he sits on the edge of the bed. Dream takes the ring, coronating the other man, and Sapnap thinks the British man should wear more orange. He bit his lips, trying to make sure the crown didn’t slip off and tried to give the Floridian a stern look.

“If any petals fall on the bed, you’re cleaning it up,” Sapnap warned, bringing his hand up to help the other to fix the flowers and then he plucked out a few stray leaves. 

“You can’t keep buying flowers,” George mumbled, “What are we going to do with all of them?”

“They make you smile,” He answers seamlessly and the spluttered look on the other’s face is worth it, “I’ll buy all the flowers you and Sap want.”

Dream leans forward and kisses George, lightly pressing his lips against the other who smiles, the special one that makes them want to die a thousand deaths for it. He waits quietly for them, leaning against the tanned man, distracting himself with how blush makes Dream’s freckles stand out and how the lovesick look on their third makes him want to melt. The Floridian turns to face Sapnap and then leans forward to catch his lips. He feels the dampness of the other’s mouth, kissing him with a fervour which reminds him of the gorgeous storms Dream complains when he’s homesick. 

Homesick, he doesn’t think he could be if he was with them.

~

It becomes George’s job to decide what to do with the flowers. He complains, reminding Sapnap and Dream that they were the ones who bought them and wasted their money on it. They tell him that they wasted nothing if they got to see him smile and he chases them out of the room in indignation, cheeks the same adorable flush when he doesn’t know how to say ‘I love you’ back.

He becomes creative, deciding against doing the same thing again. There are a lot of flowers to waste on ideas, no matter how stupid, how small. He presses his favourites, the small blooms becoming flat and dry and decorates the refrigerator door with them; pairing each pressed flower with one of Dream’s notes. The floridian laughs when he sees it, not believing that they had kept the notes and jokes about how he’s the favourite kid, his ‘drawings’ making it on the fridge.

Soon there’s a flower in every room of the house, whether it be a bouquet in a vase or petals scattered in the shape of hearts on random surfaces. Sapnap doesn’t get annoyed that they’re everywhere like glitter, in fact he loves it. It’s almost like a bit of their love is in every room, reminding him how much he’d do for the other idiots and how his heart hasn’t been his for a very long time. He smiles when he sees a tulip on his camera set-up, deciding to stream with it in his hair. The fans will be calling him a flower boy for weeks but the look of delight on George’s face is worth more.

But his little stunt on stream triggers George’s next fixation.

He’s on the living room floor, back leaning against the couch and head between the other’s legs. The shorter man is threading his fingers through his hair, unknotting each clump his fingers become trapped in. Sapnap had been avoiding going to the barber’s, his hair becoming long enough that he could tie it in a short ponytail. 

George took the flower corsages which Dream had bought when he mentioned that Britain didn’t have homecoming. He offered the ornaments to the blond, asking him to pick which colour looks best on Sapnap.

“What are you talking about? I look good in everything,” He pouted and the British man rolled his eyes.

“Sure, now sit still and look pretty,” George kicks his hip awkwardly and Dream laughs quietly.

“Pink,” He chose and the other hummed, putting aside the blue corsage, and started pulling apart the pink roses carefully so they were still intact. He braided small strands of the Texan’s brown curls, threading in the pink buds in every separate dreadlock. Sapnap likes how it feels, George softly pulling at his scalp and trying not to pull too hard. He trusts the other, closing his eyes and sighing softly as he played with his hair.

“You look so stupid,” George laughed, eyes filled with a satisfied mirth as he tilts the other’s chin upward so that their eyes connect, “Dream-”

“The disney princesses could never,” Dream beamed, nudging Sapnap over so he was situated between George’s legs, “My turn.”

Sapnap likes it, the fondness and gentle pride that lingers on their face when they look at him. He doesn’t care for how much of an idiot he looks, not when he’s adorned in the petals of their love, of their adoration. 

He goes on stream with it on and twitter gets #sappyflowerboi on trending.

~

It’s not always easy.

Maybe he should regret falling for two people at once. Maybe he should be worried that he had to split his own heart in two so he could give everything he possibly could to those two idiots. It’s not always perfect, he’d be lying if he said it was. Sometimes he worries if the heart he gave away was divided exactly in half, sometimes he worries if the hearts given to him would fit each other like puzzle pieces. He worries if their hearts don’t click, how would they live on? How do you breathe when your heart tears itself apart? How do you take a step forward when it hurts to even open your eyes?

He and Dream had been fighting. He doesn’t remember why as tears angrily fall onto his lap as he hides in the living room. The taller man had stormed out, needing space away from him and he refused to let himself think about what would happen, what could happen if Dream didn’t come back. He will though, he had to. For George at the very least, if not him.

Sapnap blinks, taking deep breaths to stop his arms from shaking. He doesn’t like that he can taste salt on his lips, he doesn’t like how his head pounds. He doesn’t like how small everything seems to make him feel when the emotions swirling inside him screamed to be louder, bigger than he’s ready for.

“They’re wilting.”

Sapnap looks up from his lap and over to George who’s seated on the dinner table with his laptop in front of him and the vase of blooms Sapnap had bought a week and a half ago on his left. Most petals had curled, brown and dull, and they drooped down as if they had already accepted their fate. The greenery has lost its lush and they might crumble if they were touched. 

Sapnap doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t particularly want to nor does he trust himself not to start crying again. George looks as small as him, tentative and wary. The argument doesn’t involve him at all but he looks just as scared as the Texan, fidgety fingers and a nervous stammer in the breath. He looks like he wants to help badly but doesn’t know how to and the guilt pooling inside Sapnap starts to drown him till he knows nothing else.

“S-sap, they’re wilting,” He can barely hear George’s voice trembles and he wishes it didn’t, “I don’t want them to.”

He should apologise, he didn’t mean to hurt the other, he didn’t mean to hurt Dream, he didn’t mean to hurt himself. But he stays quiet, even when the British man joins him on the couch. They aren’t touching, George knows how Sapnap gets when he’s upset, but he can feel brown eyes pleading for him to look at them. He can’t.

“They were pretty. The colours- they were really nice.” George sounds unsure, as if he were trying to make sense of random words, “I don’t want them to go.”

“You’re really bad at this, aren’t you Georgie?” He laughs but it’s hollow and choked. He still isn’t looking at the other and his eyes are glassy again.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t apologise,” Sapnap mumbles, “It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I messed up.”

“Don’t say that.” George comes a bit closer and the Texan has to allow himself to relax so he could lean towards the shorter man, “We all messed up, let’s just talk things through when he comes back.”

If he came back, Sapnap wants to scream out loud. They’ve fought before, but he wonders why he’s so scared this time. The other man watches his face, frowning.

“He’ll be back-”

“Who’ll be back?”

His breath hitches when he hears Dream’s voice, nervous and defeated in a way he hates, in a way that’s his fault. Both men on the couch flinch, one of them brave enough to turn and see the taller man stand outside the living room, almost hesitant to step in the space like an invader. 

“Dream,” George says softly as Sapnap tries to make himself seem smaller. He hears a sharp inhale and the British man’s voice chokes, breaking off. Relief, he recognizes but he wonders why. The other nudges him to turn and hesitantly, he does. 

Dream has a weak smile and only seems to grow larger when green eyes meet olive. His freckles stand out and his eyes are red, nose sniffling every now and then. He focuses on what the other was holding, a bundle of flowers, fresh and new. The blooms are vibrant and sing in oranges and blues. There are small filler buds of white, specks hidden under delicate greenery. They are lovely, the first picks of spring, a peace offering asking only for a chance to try again and do better. 

“Hi.”

Sapnap lets himself cry.

~

_ Love is a bit like a flower. _

_ It has to come to an end. The petals must dance their final dance as the stem bows for the world one last time, before dropping dead. The colours start to fade away and they aren’t as beautiful as they used to be but if you still care, if you still wish to see them again- there is a way. _

_ Make the heavens rain, beg that the sun shine a little brighter. Check if the soil is just right and whisper to the bees to come visit the little burial. _

_ If you’re lucky, if you’ve loved right, a small sprout will sprout from the old, strong and hopeful, and offers you another bloom, another chance to make things right. _

_ Because love is a bit like a flower, it lives and dies, dies and lives. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> 'lo,
> 
> Okay so this was supposed to be a cute, little drabble about the Enchroma glasses (coz no one was feeding me that content.) that was going to stay in the drafts but then it became a flower fic and the dreamnotnap nearly broke up and I realised I should probably just post this before it became 100k or something. Also, I felt really guilty coz the last one-shot I posted was not good but I'm too lazy to re-write it so this is like my apology. <3
> 
> (I wrote this instead of my English essay due in two days, be happy please.)
> 
> if u want to- don't forget to user subscribe, it's free and you can always unsubscribe later <3
> 
> xoxo winter
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/yourlazykitkat) & [tumblr](https://yourlazykitkat.tumblr.com/)


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